


Queer Milk Bottle Mystery, The

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Alternate Universe, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-04-19
Updated: 2002-04-19
Packaged: 2018-11-21 00:43:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11346495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Okay.  Deep breath.  This is a humorous look at an alternate universe that reimagines Mulder and Krycek (Fox and Alex) as junior detectives solving mysteries.  They *are* old enough and they are *not* brothers.  It's very hard to describe.  Just read a bit. And place tongue firmly in cheek.  (Actually place it wherever the hell it feels good.)





	Queer Milk Bottle Mystery, The

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

Queer Milk Bottle Mystery, The

## Queer Milk Bottle Mystery, The

#### by David S.

Title: Queer Milk Bottle Mystery, The  
Author: David S.  
Feedback to:   
Author's Website: http://www.hegalplace.com/david/  
Date Archived: 04/19/02  
Category: Humor, AU (Alternate Universe)   X-Files/Hardy Boys  
Pairing: Mulder/Krycek         
Rating: NC-17  
Spoilers: Nope. But Darth Vader *is* Luke's father. I know it comes as a shock, but I thought you should know. There, there  
Permission to Archive: Suuuure. Why not? Just let me know so I can get all "gee whiz" on ya.  
Series or Sequel/Prequel:   
Notes: Um, I don't know where this stuff comes from. Don't ask.   
Special thanks: To the two people who *get* me. Satina and Shan. They run fast. I can't get away. (And thanks for the beta, hun!!)   
Dedicated to: Anyone who's ever felt different.   
Feedback: Well, yeah, that'd be nice. Send all love letters, chain letters, spam, internet hoaxes, virus alerts, really bad jokes, movie reviews, and good, old-fashioned hate mail to: nakedmanatee@yahoo.com  
Warnings: There's a healthy amount of irreverence towards The Bible and Christianity in this story. If you can take a joke, you'll be okay. If you can't, I would suggest skipping this one.  
Disclaimer: I do not own the X-Files or the Hardy Boys. I don't even own a watch. Eep.  
Summary: Okay. Deep breath. This is a humorous look at an alternate universe that reimagines Mulder and Krycek (Fox and Alex) as junior detectives solving mysteries. They *are* old enough and they are *not* brothers. It's very hard to describe. Just read a bit. And place tongue firmly in cheek. (Actually place it wherever the hell it feels good.)

* * *

Chapter 1: Lemonade on the Veranda 

Fox Mulder was thoroughly bored. He walked up to the fireplace mantle and eyed his award-winning model airplane collection that he and his father, William, had lovingly put together over the years. He had loved this pastime when he was a child and he had to admit he loved it now, even at seventeen, on the tip of a burgeoning manhood. 

He knew that other boys' attentions were turning from the simple pleasures of rocket launchers and model kits to the more complex pleasures of girls and gin. 

Girls! Fox didn't see what all the fuss was about. Sure, there were some girls he liked, like his friend Dana. But she wasn't dopey like the other girls. She was different. She had a brain. Heck, she was even president of the Bayport Teens Science Club. A girl! President! Sheesh. That was just plain wacky. 

And of course, he liked his mom. But not in the icky way he had read about in Mr. Lambert's psychology books. Oh, heck no. Ewww! Some people had the craziest ideas and Fox Mulder wasn't going to fall for them anytime soon. 

But how could you go wrong with a model airplane? His latest masterpiece, the American-made Curtiss JN-4 was a beaut. He called it Jenny. It narrowly beat out his best chum's effort, a Sopwith Camel. Frohike was very proud of it and would often crow that it looked real enough to give the ol' Red Baron himself the horsetrots. 

There was a lot to like about his pal Frohike. He was always quick with a joke or a quote from one of his Weird Tales comics that he kept rolled up in his back pocket. Some people quoted the bible. Frohike quoted EC comics. And, of course, nobody did a better Rod Serling impression than Frohike. He also did a lousy Ethel Merman, but Fox didn't have the courage to tell him. 

But man did he like to eat. He would eat anything, even strange, unidentifiable berries. This had got them both into trouble on more than one occasion. 

He always carried sticks of beef jerky with him, "just for emergencies" because "you never knew when you're going to want beef jerky." Which was all right, Fox thought, except that it usually ended up with Frohike complaining about how thirsty he was from eating so much beef jerky. 

Fox picked up Jenny and began to swing her through the air making airplane sounds by humming his lips together. "I'm going to save you, Winston Churchill!" he said in a high-pitched voice before making machine-gun fire sounds. 

"Ah. Playing with Jenny again, are you?" William Mulder's voice boomed through the room, causing Fox to jump in surprise. He turned around to see his father, who was now trying not to laugh. 

"Da--ad!" he said with a relieved smile. 

"Scared you, didn't I, son?" William walked into the spacious living room, setting his coat down on the sofa. 

"No!" he denied, putting Jenny back onto the mantle. 

"Oh. Okay. Still, though, you should know that that airplane was not used in combat and was flown during World War I. Ol' Winston Churchill made his mark in World War II." 

"Sorry, Dad." Fox slumped down onto the sofa. He hated getting historical facts wrong in front of his dad, world-famous detective William Mulder. Some day the old man wouldn't be here and he would be expected to solve crimes just like his father would. He couldn't let him down. 

Fox sighed. "I'll go to the library and brush up on World War I, Dad." 

William tousled Fox's hair affectionately, causing the static electricity to raise his hair up on end, quite comedically. "Thattaboy, son. It's time for a hair cut, don't you think?" 

"Da-ad," he whined, pushing his father's hand away. William was teasing him and Fox knew it. "I just got one last week." 

"Ok, I just don't want you turning into... what do they call 'em..." William raised his hands in the air and waggled his fingers menacingly. "Beatniks!" 

Fox looked at his dad, amused by his conjuring of some counterculture boogeyman. "Yeah right! And live a life of taking illegal drugs and not washing myself? No thank you!" 

"Speaking of illegal drugs," a soft voice lilted. "I've made some of my famous, _very_ legal, lemonade." 

"Mom!" Fox yelled. "You're back home early from your Quilt Club treasury meeting!" 

"Yes. By about fifteen minutes," William intoned. "Everything all right with you gabbing chicks? Pecking away with your gossip and your iced tea?" 

"Well, William Mulder!" Fox's mom gasped, striding over to him sternly, her high heels clacking on the wooden floor. "You've never had any affection for my quilting club, but you know we'd never gossip!" 

"Really?" he said, amused. She broke his gaze and looked shyly away. 

"Yes, well, who wants lemonade on the veranda? It may not have the kick of some kooky beatnik mind-altering hallucinogenic, but it's pretty tart and tasty." She tousled Fox's hair, causing it to go straight up on end again. 

William came up behind her. "The way I like it." 

"Oh William!" she said, laughing nervously, slapping at the hands coming around her waist. 

Fox covered his face, thinking about airplanes and World War I. 

"Why don't you go out onto the veranda son, while I help your mother make the lemonade," William said, clearing his throat. 

"Yes, goodness gracious, it shouldn't take too long." She gave William a wink, then looked back down towards her son. 

"Yes, gladly," Fox muttered, shielding his eyes and getting up off of the sofa. He sprinted towards the front door, eager to leave the two to their lemonade-makin'. 

Fox settled onto the wooden porch swing and began to listlessly rock back and forth, enjoying the sun creeping onto the veranda. He loved his mom and dad, even if he didn't quite understand them. He decided it must have something to do with old age and made a vow to throw himself off a cliff before thirty hit. 

A gentle breeze swayed the orange-cream day lilies in his mother's garden. It was the perfect time of year in Bayport. Spring was fading and summer was giving hints of what was to come. 

Summer! He could not wait. Summer meant camp and fireworks, barbecues and touch football with the gang. And most of all, summer meant _mystery_. 

Bayport, while a beautiful and idyllic community, had its dark side. Sure, most of the good folk were content to watch Lawrence Welk and joylessly go through the motions of marriage like the Norman Rockwell- loving Americans they aspired to be, but there were a dastardly few who seemed intent on indulging their more sinister natures. 

Yes, Bayport had its share of jewel thieves, loose women who wore frilly things on a Wednesday night, dark men who wore brimmed hats, carried knives, and weren't afraid to point them threateningly, and transvestites. Lord, you should see all the transvestites. 

And during the summer, the criminal ilk, presumably emboldened by the warm, sunny weather, chose to use that time to hatch a whole winter's worth of insidious schemes and plans. It was enough to send a detective into a paroxysm of ecstasy. 

That's where William Mulder came in. William Mulder was America's finest detective. It even said so on his business cards. There wasn't a case he couldn't crack, a criminal he couldn't catch, a tie he couldn't match. He had an impeccable fashion sense. 

Everyday, Fox would scour the Bayport Times for articles about the latest exciting mystery that his dad had solved. He longed to be like him, to solve cases as easily as his father, and summer, with it's influx of nogoodniks, always offered him the chance to prove himself. 

Often, he and Frohike would get involved in an seemingly unrelated mishap that would figure prominently in a way that was initially unclear, but later dramatically obvious to whatever case his father was working on at the time. Using only his wits, his courage, and his boy scout training, he would assist his father, often providing the crucial piece of evidence needed to solve the mystery. 

Other times, he and Frohike would get lost in the woods, left only to eat beef jerky and unidentifiable wild berries. Well, Fox reasoned, a good junior detective was entitled to his share of mistakes and strange rashes. 

Fox had created a scrapbook of all of his favorite mysteries that he and Frohike had helped dad solve. He would dutifully clip the stories from the Bayport Times to remind him of his adventures. There were so many good memories. The Case of the Runaway Scones. The Shadowy Canasta Tournament. The Mystery of the Old Guy With a Rake Who Shook it at Kids Whose Ball Had Fallen Into His Yard, But They Didn't Mean Anything By It, Honest. Those were some good times. 

Approximately five minutes of wistful reflection later, William came out and sat down with him. Fox looked a little surprised to see him. 

"What took you so long?" he asked. Usually, Fox only had to wait maybe three or four minutes for his father. 

William wiped the sweat from his brow. "Had problems, um, finding the sugar. Anyways, there's something I need to talk to you about, son." 

Fox sat straight up, excited. Could it be? Was Dad finally making him an _official_ junior detective with badge, magnifying glass, gun, and everything? Oh, wait till Frohike heard the news. 

"What is it, Dad?" 

William took off his glasses and began to polish them with Fox's shirt. "Well, as you know, summer's coming." 

Fox nodded, trying to suppress his smile. 

"And summer means--" 

"Mysteries! I know, dad. Geez, like you have to tell me." 

William put his glasses back on and stood up, gazing at the day lilies. "Yes. Mysteries. I'm already on a case, as you well know. A very big case involving a despicable band of milk bottle thieves. I'm calling it "The Bread-box Caper." 

Fox nodded. 

"Anyways, other cases are coming in at a rate that even I, America's finest detective, can't keep up with. So it seemed natural to me to bring in some help." 

Fox leaped out of the porch swing. "I'd love to, Dad! Gosh, this is going to be swell! I can't wait to help you out! I won't let you down, Dad!" He rushed over and gave his father a big hug. 

Just then, his mother walked in, carrying a tray with three lemonade glasses. "Lemonade?" she chirped. "Oh, are you two having "the talk"?" 

"No, no," William said, trying to pry Fox off of him. "Just trying to tell him my big news." 

"Oh, by the way dear, there are two people here to see you. A father and his son. Were you expecting anyone?" She set the tray down on the patio table. "I let them in. They're reading magazines in the foyer." 

"Yes, as I matter of fact, I was. Please show them in." 

Fox let go of his father and looked at him, confused. William grabbed a glass of lemonade and gave it to him. 

"Drink up son." Fox took it and took a swallow to oblige him. "I'm afraid you misunderstand. I'm trying to tell you I've taken on an associate. I'm getting help from a professional detective." 

Fox's face fell. "Dad! What about me?" 

He put his hand on Fox's shoulder and patted him. "Now, now. You and Frohike should be doing normal things. Not traipsing around Bayport looking for clues. You're of the age where you should be dating pretty girls." 

"Ah, Dad, I'm not interested in any dumb girl!" Fox yelled. 

"Well, son, that's what worries me sometimes." 

"Here are our two visitors, William," Fox's mom said, coming through the swinging doors with the two guest in tow. 

"Ah! Mr. Spender. I'm glad you could make it." William extended his hand and the elder man shook it. Mr. Spender smiled and then nodded toward Fox. 

"I hope I can be of service," Mr. Spender said. "Please forgive me. I haven't introduced my son. This is Alex. He'll be helping me. My junior detective, you might say." 

Alex, a dark-haired boy with flaming green eyes offered his hand to Fox. He was wearing a black leather jacket just like the greasers wore. Fox, unimpressed, found a spot on the floor and stared at it. 

"Fox," William warned. "Don't be impolite." 

Fox pursed his lips crankily. 

"Fox..." 

He took Alex's hand and shook it. He was going to make it the limpest, most pathetic handshake in the existence of handshakes, but Alex gripped him tightly, shaking it and flashing him a grin. Fox did not smile back. 

"He's not usually like this," William apologized. "Please, sit down. Drink some lemonade." He shot Fox a look. "He's the same age as you, Fox. Isn't that _cool_?" 

Spender picked up the extra glass and took a drink. Alex picked up Fox's and began to drink it. 

"Hey!" Fox cried. "Your _junior detective_ is drinking my lemonade!" 

"Fox!" his mother scolded. "Well, gracious. I think you've been listening to too much Elvis Presley, young man. Don't worry. There's more lemonade where that came from. Now you be a good host. These are our guests." 

Alex looked squarely at Fox and drank the rest of his lemonade. "It's quite good," he said, wiping his mouth with his hand. "Thank you, Mrs. Mulder." 

"Oh my, but you're welcome, Alex. You've raised him well, Mr. Spender." 

Mr. Spender smiled. "Why thank you, Mrs. Mulder. It hasn't been easy after Cassandra vanished. We adopted Alex before her mysterious disappearance. I was forced to be mother and father to the poor boy." 

"That's incredibly sad, Mr. Spender." Fox's mother shook her head, awestruck at Mr. Spender's ability to raise a son all alone without female companionship. "What do you eat?" she said incredulously. 

"We have a maid." Mr. Spender reached into his pocket and brought out a cigarette. 

"Ohhhh, " she said, nodding. "That makes sense. Well, I'm glad you're going to work with William." 

"Yes," William said. "I think having you on the payroll will be extremely advantageous." He looked at Alex, then Fox. "And I'm sure you two will become fast friends. Eh?" He slapped Fox's knee and Fox jumped. "Eh, Fox?" 

"Yeah. Right," he grumbled, giving Alex a hateful stare. Alex's eyes seemed to sparkle, amused. 

Alex slapped Fox's other knee. "I think we'll be excellent chums, Mr. Mulder!" Alex let his hand rest there for a second, then lifted it. 

"That'll be the day!" Fox stammered, getting up. He gave Alex one last look, then ran off into the direction of the woods, trying not to let anyone see the tears stinging his eyes. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx 

Chapter 2: Into the Woods 

Fox ran until he was out of breath. He had never felt this angry or confused. Not only was Dad not making him an official junior detective, he had to put up with this new pain-in-the-rear, Alex. Why? What did that brash, handsome interloper have that he didn't? 

And he was so smug! He had the nerve to touch Fox's knee as if they'd known each other since second grade. Fox decided right then and there that the next time Alex laid a finger on him, he would give him a good slug with his much feared left hook. 

"Pow! Bam!" Fox swung through the air, imagining his fist connecting with that roguish baby-face. "Take that, _chum_!" He swung again. "Oh, begging for mercy, eh? Hmmm, well, that's just too bad, All-lex!" 

"Heya Foxy!" a gleeful voice called out. Fox's head snapped up and he saw a silhouette emerge from behind a oak. His heart sped up as he recognized that well-toned body, even in the shadows. "Was it something I said?" Alex jeered. 

Fox knew that he should run. Heck, he had lettered in track at Bayport High. He knew he could outrun just about anybody or anything. Girly-boy wouldn't be any problem. 

"Aww, Foxy, don't cry!" Alex made his way down a small hill, pine needles crunching beneath his shoes. 

That was too much. Nobody called him Foxy without getting a fist in the face. Not Calvin Jones, football quarterback, Shelly Peterson, head cheerleader, or Reverend Johnson. They all found out the hard way. Now it was time for girly-boy to be taught a painful course in Fox-Fu. 

Fox wiped the tears away. "I'm not crying, you dingle-berry!" He pointed up to Alex. "I hope your father knows a good doctor!" 

"He does," Alex replied, getting closer. 

Fox was silent for a second, trying to think of a cool response. "Well...good... that's good... cause I'm going to break every bone in your body. And... a good doctor would come in handy after that." 

"You. Are going to hurt. Me." Alex stopped, ten feet away from Fox. 

"Y-yes. I know karate. And I've been a Boy Scout since I was _five_." Fox held up his right palm for emphasis. "Five! I was dangerous then... Can you imagine me now?" 

Alex leaned over and scooped up an object from the ground, then threw it towards Fox. Fox stood there incredulously as a pine cone bounced off his forehead. 

"Ow! Hey! You dirty...!" Before Fox could rub his forehead, another pine cone hit him right where the other one had made contact. "Ow! Stop that!" THWACK! One hit him in the side of the head. "Ow!" 

Alex had sat down on the ground and was tossing pine cones at him with unerring accuracy. If they had given a merit badge for using pine cones as a weapon, he would have earned it and then some. 

"You're making this harder on yourself!" Fox shouted between pelts. Finally, using the wits that he had honed in such cases as The Search for Dad's Coffee Mug and The Jinxed Jock Strap, Fox started to grab pine cones and loft them back at Alex, who was having quite a fun time. 

Fox's aim was not as well-honed as his deductive skills. His throw was erratic and he only came close to pissing off an angry woodpecker. 

"Ha! Nice going, boy scout!" Alex called out, needling the teen detective. 

Frustrated and hurt, Fox had no choice. He was going to have to get away. He spotted a nearby oak tree with low branches and ran to it. If he could climb up it, he would have a superior vantage point. That's strategic planning worthy of the great Boy Scout Blow-out of 1943! 

Huffing, he made it and started to scramble up the tree, grabbing the strongest limbs. A branch underneath his left foot cracked, then snapped, and Fox slipped down to the next limb. He desperately dug in. He quickly glanced around for a sign of Alex and his deadly pine cones. Nothing. He turned his head. Nothing. 

The tree was slick with dew and he could feel himself slipping. Still, he held on as tightly as he could. If he could muster up the strength to get his leg up to the next branch, he'd have it made. Then he felt a helping hand on his ass. 

He looked down, shocked to see Alex pushing on his butt and smiling. 

"Need some help, Foxy?" Alex said, batting his long eyelashes. 

"That's...that's not funny!" Fox fumed. He was trapped. If he let go with one of his hands to swat Alex away, he would surely fall. "Don't!" he stammered. "Stop grabbing my butt!" 

Alex laughed. "Aw, you don't like it? Besides, I'm not grabbing it." Alex squeezed Fox's lean, but muscular ass. "Now there... there I was grabbing it." 

Fox made a showy effort of trying to get further up the tree, but even with Alex's _help_ , he wasn't making any headway. "No! I don't like that and I don't like _you_!" 

"You know, you don't seem to be trying too hard to get away, Foxy!" 

"I'm going to tell your father!" Fox threatened, looking down over his shoulder at the arrogant boy. 

Finally, Alex let go. "Okay. Okay. Geez, don't be a crybaby." Then as soon as he let go, Alex gave his ass a good slap. 

"Ow!" Fox yelped, feeling the sting of Alex's hand. His pants felt tighter and more uncomfortable now. He very rarely got a hard-on in public anymore, not after the humiliating gym incident. Still, it wasn't easy to predict when lil' Fox would wake up. "Now is not a good time!" he whispered admonishingly to himself. He looked nervously down at Alex who seemed to be enjoying the view. 

"Well, you gonna hang there like a monkey or what?" 

Nuts. Fox did not want Alex to see him like this. 

"Maybe you need another slap?" 

"No!" Fox yelled, not moving. Instead he hugged the side of the tree that much harder anticipating what was to come. "You better not!" he warned limply. THWAK! 

Fox felt the hot flash of pain that instantly lighted the pleasure between his legs. As much as he didn't want it to, it felt good. What was happening? His mind raced back towards Mr. Crank's Biology class. Was this getting *turned-on*? It couldn't be. The sex act was God's way of telling you to make babies. There was no way Alex could be birthin' babies. 

His fingers felt weak and tired and his hands started to slip. He no longer seemed to have the ability to hang onto the slippery twigs, and he fell, crashing into a startled Alex. 

"What the--" Alex said before being crushed by Fox's sweaty body. "Ooof!" Alex winced and smiled at the same time. He was happy for some reason, despite having the breath knocked out of him. 

Fox knew an opportunity when he saw one. He righted himself and pinned Alex down by straddling him. Now, it was time to show that girly-boy who was in charge! Indeed, Alex seemed to have all the fight taken out of him. Ha! "Not so tough now are ya?" 

If only... Jeepers! His penis was only getting harder. Maybe if he moved to the side he could hide it. No. He bit the inside of his cheek and rubbed over to the other side of Alex's crotch. No, that's not any better. He tried again, moving, trying to ignore the flashes of pleasure that would shoot through him. 

What a dilemma! Not only was his constant repositioning not working, Fox noticed with growing horror that Alex's crotch seemed to be getting more uncomfortable beneath him. And, surprisingly, Alex... Alex wasn't struggling. But every now and then, he'd close his eyes... 

"Little to the left," Alex whispered, licking his lips. 

Fox immediately stopped. Holy smoke. This is sex. Nooo, it can't be. This can't be right. He leapt off of Alex, stumbling backwards. Fox tripped over his own legs and fell into the dirt. 

Alex sat up. "Hey, you were doing great. I was almost there." 

"Just... just shut up!" Fox yelled before taking off. This was the strangest thing that had ever happened to Fox Mulder, that was for sure. There had to be an explanation. Maybe Frohike would know. But how could he tell him? 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx 

Chapter 3: Frohike 

"And that one..." Frohike pointed to the G.I. Joe dressed in a robe with a beard painted on, sitting in the middle. "That one's Jesus. Keen, huh?" 

Fox Mulder sighed. If he was going to enlist Frohike's help, he was going to have indulge him. The only thing Frohike liked to do more than eat strange foods that others wouldn't even smell, let alone put anywhere near their mouths, was to fritter away all his spare time mired in some kooky hobby. Last month it was making his own cheese. This month it appeared that Frohike was learning to love the lost art of making religious dioramas using G.I. Joes. 

"Nice." Fox touched Jesus's head with one finger. Frohike had them arranged perfectly, reenacting the scene from Da Vinci's "The Last Supper." "Hey, some of the apostles are women. And wearing swimsuits." 

"Oh." Frohike grinned sheepishly. "Barbies. I ran out of Joes. You understand." Fox nodded. "Judas is actually an Action Man." Frohike beamed, proud of his ingenuity. "Sit, man. What can I do ya for?" 

Fox sat down on the lawn chair, very nervous. How could he explain to his best friend all that had happened? That he had done the sex act... with another boy! He wasn't a virgin anymore. Satan was probably getting hell all freshened up for him. 

Still, he didn't know he was having sex until it was too late... Maybe if he prayed hard enough he could save his soul from the bed of fire that surely awaited him. 

"Ah!" Frohike interjected. "I know already, my good man." 

Mulder swallowed. "Y-you do?" Man, giving off boy-sex vibes already, he thought despondently. 

"Yes!" Frohike's eyes narrowed. "I'm an expert on body language. And a pretty good detective myself. Not that you'd need to be William Mulder to figure out this one. It's written all over your face!" 

Oh sweet Moses. "You know that I had sex with a boy?" he blurted. 

"No, silly man. Your obvious nervousness is a clear symptom of you being made an official junior... come again?" 

Fox pursed his lips and focused on a squirrel who was cocking its head curiously at them. 

"You had sex with a _BOY_?" Frohike stood up, laughing uproariously. "Heeeheeeheee! That's a knee-slapper!" He pointed at Fox. "Oh, you had me goin', you goon." 

Fox sat there. He knew he should laugh with him. It was his one good chance of taking his secret back. But there was a part of him that didn't want to take it back. Why was this happening to him? The feelings welled up and he could feel the tears coming back. 

"Oh, Frohike, I'm going to hell!" Fox began to sob, holding his head in his hands. "Hello, Hitler! How are you doing today? Hot enough for ya? Oh Gawwwwd!" 

Frohike reluctantly patted him on the shoulder, gingerly. "Hey, uh, hey. You're not kidding, are you?" 

Fox grabbed the Jesus doll from his cardboard table. "I'm sorry, Jesus. I didn't know!" He wiped his tears with one sleeve. "Please forgive me," he implored. Fox gave Action Man/Judas a look. He pictured Alex's grinning, leering face over it. "And you! Judas! You betray me!" He flung Jesus over his shoulder and grabbed Action Man/Judas/Alex, squeezing him. 

A frightened look overcame Frohike. Fox was goin' bonkers. This was even worse than the time he fell asleep and the rest of the boy scout troup painted 666 on his forehead right before the field trip to the Veteran's Nursing Home. 

Fox grinned dementedly. "Die, you!" He grabbed the doll's head and yanked it off. Laughing, he chucked it into the air. It flew past the squirrel on the fence, who chased after it, thinking it looked like a tasty treat. 

"Whoa, Fox. Cool it, Jeeves." Frohike guided him back to his chair. He tried to pry the Action Man/Judas body from Fox's hand, but Fox was not letting go. 

"''S'mine!" he growled. 

"Okay, okay... take him. Action Man's yours. That's right!" Frohike smiled at him the way you would a crazed lunatic. "You play with your Action Man." 

He sat him back down into his lawn chair. Frohike sat down across from him. Fox had stopped crying, but he was sniffling. 

"Ooo, gross, man. You need something?" Frohike handed him his handkerchief and Fox blew his nose into it for what seemed like an eternity. He handed it back to Frohike. "Nah. Keep it, buddy. Please." 

Fox shrugged and shoved it into his pocket. They sat there saying nothing. Frohike, pal that he was, tried to think of something to lift his friend's spirits. "Say, when I'm feeling blue, I eat some beef jerky. Whaddya say?" 

Fox shook his head no. Minutes of silence crawled by, agonizingly. What do you say in these situations? 

"Wanna make some cheese?" 

"No," Fox gurgled. Even that had lost its charm. 

Strike one! Gosh, being a friend is harder than it looks! What would G.I. Joe say? 

"Was he hot?" 

Fox looked up, incredulously. "What?" 

"You know, was he a dashing fellow? Was his penis large?" 

"No! For the love of Mike, no! I did not even see his... hoojywhatzit." Fox was getting quickly irritated at his friend's line of questioning. Couldn't he see that he had a first-class ticket to Hell? 

Frohike sat up straight. "Waitaminute. Now, I'm no expert. Ha. But, I don't think you can have..." He waggled his eyebrows. "Um, whoopie... without, you know, his penis somehow exploring your nubile young body." 

Fox looked hopeful again. "You think? Hey! Wow, you know a lot about s--, uh, this subject." He let the Judas body fall to the ground. 

Frohike nodded slightly, his eyes lowering. "I get around. I've read certain passages from the Encyclopedia Britannica." 

Fox leapt up and began searching the yard for the abandoned Jesus. "Thank you, Jesus! I'm not going to hell! I didn't _really_ have sex! It says so in the Encyclopedia Britannica! Aw, man, where did Jesus go?" 

Frohike came up beside him. "Easy there, man. Underneath that holy robe lies a warrior true. He'll be fine. Check those bushes." 

Fox saw Jesus hanging helplessly, with his head nestled ignominiously into the foliage. He pulled him out and kissed him on the head. "Thank you, Jesus," he whispered. 

"So what _did_ you do?" Frohike asked. "Make out or something?" 

Fox winced his face in disgust. Ha. Kiss Alex. No way would that ever happen. No way. That would be... just awful. Just... he couldn't stop picturing it. Alex kissing him, pushing him against a tree. You're not stopping me, he would say. You want this, don't you? Alex's hands all over him... 

"I don't want to kiss that jerk!" Fox yelled, startling a clueless Frohike. 

"Okay, Jose. Just asking. Sheesh. Who is this fella, anyways?" Fox handed him Jesus. Frohike took him, happy to have his centerpiece back from his crazy friend. 

"His name is Alex." Fox spit the name out like it was the most foul thing imaginable. He sighed. "Oh, man. It's like this. My dad has taken on a partner." 

"For his cases?" Frohike inquired. "Wow. Will wonders never cease." 

"I know. Well, his new partner has a son. His name is Alex and his dad had _no_ problem making _him_ an official junior partner." Fox kicked listlessly at a mound of dirt. 

"You don't mean..." 

"Yeah... my dad shot me down. He doesn't want me helping on cases. And then, if that wasn't bad enough, Mr. Girly-face drinks all my lemonade! In front of my mom and dad!" 

"No way! What a sleazeball!" Frohike paused, unsure how to phrase his next question in a tactful manner. "Sooooo, when did all the boy on boy sex stuff happen?" 

Fox glared at him. "We didn't have sex. Remember?" He couldn't believe he was even saying the word. 

"Haha," Frohike laughed, nervously, not wanting a replay of whacked-out, talking-to-Jesus Fox. He had to be careful, lest he push his friend straight into the Wacky Ward of the Bayport Hospital for Demented Crazy People. "Right. When did the *ambiguous-but-could-be-construed-as-something-more* touching occur?" 

Fox cleared his throat. This was not easy. Man, he'd have a lot to write in his journal tonight. "I ran into the woods. Alex followed. We had this pine cone duel." 

"Ah. Pine cones. Good one." Frohike was impressed. 

"I climbed up a tree. For a superior vantage point." 

"Makes sense." 

"Then he touched me...um... you know." 

"No, I don't." Frohike was lost. "On the leg? Was he caressing your leg?" 

"No! He was not caressing my leg! My butt! He grabbed my butt! Then he gave me a good spank!!" 

"Boys, is everything all right out there?" a feminine voice called. They both looked in unison to see Frohike's mom peering out from the sliding glass door. 

"Everything's good, Ma!" Frohike smiled. 

"Okay, well, dinner's going to be ready soon. Don't stay out too much longer!" 

Fox waved and smiled in a painful parody of a grin. "My life used to be good," he whispered to Frohike. 

"What happened after the...THWACK!" Frohike slapped the air repeatedly. 

"I fell from the tree and landed on him. I was on top of him. And our bodies were... rubbing... I mean, I was just trying to hurt him... to wrestle him, but he liked it! He--" 

"Okay, I get the idea. Lordy, I get the idea. Sounds like something I read in a dirty magazine once. I think it's termed being _gay_. 'Cause they're so happy, I guess." 

Fox ignored him and continued with his tale. "But when I realized what he was doing, I left. And I came to you." 

"Well, sounds like you're not totally gay then. I believe it's a lot like becoming a vampire. You're not totally a vampire until you drink a vampire's blood. No matter if he's sucked you or not." 

Fox frowned at his analogy. "He hasn't _sucked_ me." 

"Well, you're good then. Just avoid the guy. Tell him you like Donna Reed and be done with it." 

Fox smiled. "Yeahhhh. Yeah! You're right, chum! Gosh, I feel better already." He went to hug Frohike, then stopped. "I, uh, you know. Better not. So soon after my experience." 

"Gotcha." 

"Everything's going to be fine, Frohike. I can feel it. *I'll* solve Dad's case before any of them can." Fox said, feeling the breeze from the bay hit him. Just then a squirrel scampered by, carrying a tiny head. It was the head of Action Man/Judas, but Fox saw Alex's handsome face, smiling and laughing at him. He shuddered. 

"Foxyyyy," he could have sworn the squirrel said. 

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Chapter 4: Nocturnal Submission 

He was eating meatloaf and thinking about Alex naked. He swirled his potatoes and gravy with his fork and tried not to think about such things but it was darn near impossible. 

"Penny for your thoughts, son?" Father asked, with concern in his voice. Fox sat up, startled out of his reverie. He squirmed in his chair, trying to get his raging hard-on under control. 

"Yeah, sport. You usually have your meatloaf gobbled up by now!" his mother said cheerfully, reaching over to tickle him. Fox scooted out of reach, just in time. Mom had started martini hour two hours too early. 

Even so, she was right. The day he couldn't work up an appetite for Mom's Magic Meatloaf was a sad day indeed. All he could think about was Alex's hand on his ass. 

"Son, you know you can talk to us about anything." William smiled warmly at him. 

Oh yeah, Dad, he thought. I don't imagine you'd think me doin' a boy would be all that swell. Fox looked down at his plate and realized he had been swirling his mashed potatoes and gravy into a phallic shape. 

"Maybe Fox is having _girl_ troubles," his mother teased, trying to tickle him again, and giggling. 

"Moooom," Fox groaned. "No, you... wouldn't understand, ok?" He wished his woody would disappear so he could get up from the table. Instead it was trapping him here with his parents, and as any teenage boy will tell you, that's the last place you want to be when your penis is engorged with the thought of ---well, he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do with it. But he had a feeling Alex might have a few ideas. And Fox was very sure that he couldn't talk to his dad about _that_. 

"Well, I think I need another drinky-poo," his mom said, pushing herself away from the table. 

"Me too, hun!" William said, offering his empty glass. "It's Parcheesi night!" She took the glass from him and he slapped her on the ass as she walked away. She turned, her mouth a surprised smile. 

I didn't need to see that, Fox thought. 

"You nasty beast!" she cooed, walking off. 

"Now, Fox, I think it's time we had a little talk." William cleared his throat and scooted his plate away from him. "Do you want to move to the study?" 

"NO!" Fox shouted. "Uh, I mean, I'm still hungry." He shoved an fork with a mound of meatloaf on it into his mouth and began to chew enthusiastically. "Mmmm, I love it when it gets kind of cold. That's the best!" 

William stared and his eyes blinked. "Anyways, son. I want you to know I know _exactly_ what you're going through." 

Fox stopped chewing. "Y-you do?" His heart was racing. How could he hope to hide this from America's greatest detective? 

William nodded and chuckled. "Yes. When I was your age, I had the same thing happen to me. You see, when you reach your teen years, you start to have _feelings_. And your body undergoes _changes_. Are you with me, son?" 

Fox nodded slowly, his mouth full of mashed potatoes. 

"And you get _urges_. Wild, out-of-control urges." William's eyes looked dark and gleaming and he groped imaginary buttocks in the air for emphasis. 

"Yes, yes, I do!" Fox shouted. Finally, someone understands! "I get these urges, Dad. Sometimes I just wanna, uhhh!" He made a fist and gritted his teeth. "Just today in fact, I was so close--" 

"Well, I think it's time for bed, young man!" Fox's mom said, waltzing back in with their drinks. William scooted his chair out a bit and she sat on his lap. Creepy. 

"Ahem. Yes. I agree, Fox. Sleep on it. Just remember the important thing is to _not_ act on these urges. You need to be married to the girl first." William winked. 

Fox's heart sank. Girl? His dad had _no_ idea what he was going through. He was talking about making babies. This day couldn't get any more depressing. 

"You know, Fox," his mother said. "If you're ever in doubt, you should consult The Bible or your Boy Scout handbook. Why don't you do that now? Your father and I are going to play Parcheesi." She gave William a sly look. 

"But mom, I don't think--" 

"Yes, son, I think that's a splendid idea. Those two tomes contain everything you need to know about life. If you can't find it in there, you don't need to know it." 

"Yes, Dad." Fox got up, his erection eradicated by seeing his parents enjoying themselves so much. He sulked out and headed up the stairs to his bedroom. He hated Parcheesi night. 

And the files! If he was going to get started on this cockamamie case, he was going to have break the rules and sneak a peek at his dad's files. He'll forgive me later, he thought, when I've solved the case and get my picture in the paper. 

But getting them would not be easy. William Mulder was no rube. He kept his files locked in a file cabinet with his dirty magazines. And Fox hadn't been able to crack that lock yet, despite many frustrated hours of trying. 

He pushed open his door and turned on his bedroom light. All his comfort objects held little interest for him now. Plush Snoopy, a microscope, his Weird Adventures poster. They all failed him now. 

Fox sat down on the bed and picked up the bible that he kept on his nightstand. "Dear God," Fox said aloud. "Show me the truth." He closed his eyes and opened the Holy book. He put his finger down in the middle of the page, letting the spirit guide him to the scripture that would do him the most good. 

He looked down at the passage. Deuteronomy 21:18-21 - If a man have a stubborn and rebellious son.... bring him unto the elders of his city.... And all the men of the city shall stone him with stones, that he die: so shalt thou put evil away from among you... 

Crap. _That_ can't be good. 

He quickly shut it and put the book in the top drawer of his night stand. He'd check his Boy Scout handbook tomorrow. Surely, it too wouldn't recommend stoning. But you never knew. 

Fox turned off his light and prepared for bed. He took off his shirt and tossed it into the hamper. Just then he noticed a shadow outside his window, illuminated by the light of the moon. The shadow of a man. An intruder! 

Well, this fiend would find that this house was under the protection of one Fox Mulder. Fox picked up his baseball bat and began to creep to the window. 

The shadow didn't move. It remained there, waiting. Fox wondered how the intruder was able to climb up to the second floor without alerting his parents. This guy had to know what he was doing. 

Fox slowly undid the latch with one hand, gripping the bat tightly with the other, preparing to bean this house-climbing creep-o. 

As soon as the latch was undone, Fox threw the windows open and swung the bat towards the mysterious shadow. 

"OOO-ah!" Fox shouted, a battlecry that he practiced time and time again in the mirror. It was the first time he had actually used it against a real opponent, and he thought it sounded quite fierce indeed. 

The shadow ducked and the bat connected with the side of the house. Fox felt a sharp pain in his wrist as the shadow grabbed him and squeezed, forcing him to drop his weapon. 

"Yee-ouch! Not so hard! Geez!" Fox exclaimed, taken aback. The bat rolled down the roof and fell into the petunias. Darn the luck. 

The uninvited guest pushed him back and forced himself in. "Hey! Watch it, buddy!" Fox warned. "This is _my_ room. I don't know who you are, but I think you have the wrong house. This is the _Mulder_ residence." 

"You're not wearing a shirt," the shadow growled, out of breath. 

"NO, I'm getting ready for bed. I don't wear a shirt to bed. Do you?" Sheesh, whatta maroon. Then, the light from the moon flashed across the midnight intruder's face. 

"No. No, I don't." 

Fox gulped. It was Alex. 

"I'm really hot for Donna Reed!" Fox yelled, scooting away from Alex. 

A look of utter confusion washed over Alex's face. "What?" 

"Donna Reed! She's, grrrrrr, I want to screw her brains out!" Fox backed up to the bed, tripped over his own feet, and fell on it. He rolled right off the other side and hit the floor with a thud. 

Alex shook his head, smiling in disbelief. "Okay, pal. I'm sure she's gonna be thrilled." He walked over to the other side of the bed. Fox scrambled to get up. 

"Stay away from me, Mr. Grabby-hands." 

"Settle down. Not everything revolves around your ass, you know," Alex mocked. He pulled several folded papers out of his jacket pocket. He handed them to Fox, who took them, carefully, as if he might get Alex's lingering boy-lust germs on him. 

"What are these?" Fox asked, squinting to read the small print in the dark. It was no use. 

"Your dad's case files. Thought you might like a look-see." Alex's teeth glinted in the moonlight. He was clearly proud of himself. 

"You broke into my dad's file cabinet? You jerk! You could get me into big trouble, you know!" Still. Even though Alex had broken the rules, he had done it for him. He suppressed a smile and looked intently at the papers even though he couldn't read them in the dark. No one had ever broken the rules for him before. It felt strangely good. 

"A lot of good jack-off mags too. Your dad is one horny guy! No Donna Reed though, Fox," he teased. 

He didn't like Alex talking about his father that way, but Fox knew it was true. William Mulder's illicit magazine collection was legendary. Every school kid in the county discussed it in reverent and hushed tones. 

He dared to look Alex in the eyes. He noticed their brilliant shade of green, cutting through the night. "Why... why are you helping me?" He quickly looked away from Alex. 

"I like you. I think you've got a lot of spunk," Alex said. "I'm sorry about before. I know it must of have sucked to think your dad was going to make you an official junior detective and then just have him treat you like you were nothing." 

Fox bristled. Even though Alex was technically accurate, he didn't like to think of his father in a negative light. "Well, I'm sure he knows what he's doing---" 

Alex moved closer to him. "Father knows best, huh? Where I come from, that's just a TV show, Foxy." 

"And a darn good one," Fox argued. "But, my father does know best. He's America's greatest detective. He knows more stuff than us two put together." 

Alex smiled. "The two of us put together huh? I like the sound of that." Alex moved closer and Fox backed up slowly, vaguely aware of Alex's presence getting stronger. It seemed to be hotter than before. 

"You should leave now," Fox said weakly, his voice cracking. 

"I should," Alex said, moving closer. Fox backed up and felt the wall against his back. His heart raced. In his mind he knew that there were ways around Alex. He could escape. But he felt weak. Helpless. 

Alex stood in front of him, inches away from him. Fox let himself look into Alex's eyes and he felt his body surrender. He couldn't move. His cock ached against his pants. 

"I don't think you're nothing, Foxy," Alex whispered, leaning in, his lips brushing against Fox's. 

"I..." Fox protested and Alex pressed his body against his. Fox made a deep tiny cry as Alex kissed him. Alex's hands held him tenderly but possessively around the waist. 

Alex's tongue softly touched his as they kissed and Fox felt a current of pleasure shoot through his body. Before he knew it, he had put his own arms around Alex's neck. If he was going to get stoned, he thought, he might as well enjoy the sin that would require such a punishment. 

"Fox!" he heard a voice call out. Cripes! Dad! "Don't forget. Tomorrow's trash day!" 

Alex continued to kiss him and Fox finally found the strength to break away. 

"Oh-okay, Dad!" he shouted, breathing hard. He pushed Alex away. "You have to leave," he whispered vehemently. 

Alex stared at him, his eyes dark and murky. 

"Now!" 

Alex kissed him again, quickly. "Catch ya later, Foxy," he said with a leer. He moved to the window, then turned back. "You look good without a shirt on." Then he climbed through and out onto the roof. 

Fox ran to the window, unsure why, but just wanting to see him one more time. He caught a glimpse of Alex's shadow shimmying down a tree. He stood there until he could no longer see anything moving in the dark that so much as resembled his midnight intruder. 

Fox turned on his nightstand light and picked up his Boy Scout handbook. It was going to be a long night. 

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Chapter 5: Bubba and Carolyn 

Fox hated Bubba. Bubba and Carolyn. But there was no other way. To get to Mr. Lambert's house, he was going to have to get past Bubba and Carolyn. 

He had reviewed the papers that Alex had given him the night before. Fox had decided that they hadn't kissed. It had been a dream. An awful, awful dream. There is no way he would ever let that happen in real life. This was just like the extended sex dreams he usually had about Troy Donahue and the nuns. Nothing more. 

The Bread box Caper seemed to be stumping William Mulder. Every morning in Bayport, milk bottles were disappearing from peoples' porches. _After_ they were delivered. 

At first William had blamed it on crafty marsupials. Only a devious, carnivorous marsupial would be so dastardly, so bold as to pull this off, he initially reasoned. Normally living off carrion, these creepy nocturnal creatures would look for delicious milk to cleanse the palate. But, when the search revealed no such creatures with hairy tails and pointed snouts, not even a frickin' possum, William gave up on that idea. 

So William Mulder had made a list of suspects. People to interrogate and investigate. And number one on the list was high school Psychology teacher, Mr. Lambert. Hah. Anyone who would teach the dubious science of head muckery had to be a few pancakes short of a stack. And those pancakes would make him thirsty for milk. The evidence was compelling. 

Unfortunately, Mr. Lambert's house was at the end of the Old Dirt Road, right after Bubba's house. He couldn't get to the place without going past Bubba's. 

Bubba was the most feared kid in Bayport. His dad was a drunk and his mother hosted Tupperware parties. Not a good combination, by any means. And Bubba, having had to grow up in this harsh home environment, had turned cold and cruel, seeking to make himself feel better by inflicting misery on others. 

There were two things Bubba liked to do. He would hide out in his tree house and pelt passerbys with marbles and/or Tupperware lids. When he was really feeling surly, he would play in his front yard with his dog, Carolyn, a massive Irish Wolfhound. 

He was devoted to Carolyn, and would often play Frisbee with Tupperware lids. But she was a fearsome-looking beast and Bubba would giggle with glee when she would bark and chase any strange kid who happened to be wandering down their road. Carolyn seemed very happy and very friendly, but Bubba informed all the neighborhood kids that if she seemed excited or happy, it was because she was going to eat you. By the looks of her, it appeared she had eaten quite a few children in her day. 

Bubba and Fox were far from friends. Bubba hated the little goody-goody and wasn't afraid to show it. At school, he'd take Fox's pencils, stuff them up his nose, then hand them back to him. God only knew what he'd do on a Saturday. 

Fox walked down the dirt road, rapidly approaching Bubba's house. What am I going to do, he thought. They haven't seen me yet, but in just a few seconds, it'll be real hard to miss me. 

It was times like these he wished Frohike was here to help him. It was always good to have a slower friend when you were running away from a big dog. 

He stopped just short of coming into Bubba and Carolyn's line of sight. Bubba was petting Carolyn and letting her lick his face. It would've been cute if they weren't pure evil. Fox had to remind himself that Bubba would have no qualms about siccing his furry friend on him. 

There was a small, dried-up ditch to the left of him. It wasn't deep, only a few feet, but it looked doable. If he stuck to crawling, there was a chance that he wouldn't get spotted. He hated to get too dirty, but he was going to have to make that sacrifice. Sometimes being a junior detective meant getting a little dirt up your shorts. 

He stepped down into the crevice, got down all fours and began to crawl. As he got closer, he heard Bubba talking in cute-doggy-speak in the distance. 

"You're a good girl! Yes you are! Who's a good girl? It's you! It's you!" He pictured Carolyn's snarling fangs ripping into his legs and made himself crawl faster. 

"What is it, girl?" he heard Bubba ask. Then silence. He froze. Carolyn let out a single bark. She could either hear him or smell him. He knew he shouldn't have eaten all that bacon this morning. 

Carolyn started barking excitedly. "Where ya goin'?" Bubba yelled. Fox couldn't take it any longer. He peeked up over the side of the ditch. Sure enough, the furry beastie was bounding towards him. Fox was about to become breakfast. 

Bubba caught sight of him and recognized him immediately. "You! You're on _my_ road, butt-fungus!" Fox got up and started to run towards the Lambert residence. It was a good twenty feet away still. And even then, there was no guarantee that Mr. Lambert would open the door in time. He silently wondered if Mr. Lambert had ever had children. Because he sure didn't have any now. Fox looked over his shoulder and saw Carolyn galloping, shortening the distance in a frightenly quick amount of time. She looked like she could eat two of him and have enough room left for a small bus of kindergartners. 

Oh jeepers. This was it. How embarrassing to have to die this way, swallowed whole by an Irish Wolfhound. Bubba would be so pleased. Carolyn's barks grew louder and louder and he could practically feel her hot breath on him. 

Then he heard a voice. _His_ voice. "Carooolllyn!" it called. Alex. Fox looked behind him and saw Alex down the dirt road at the head of the ditch. He had a stack of Tupperware lids. "Wanna play?" Alex cooed. 

Carolyn stopped in her tracks and turned, looking back towards Alex. He lifted a lid and shook it in the air before tossing it. Carolyn ran towards him and chased after it gleefully, tongue hanging out, eager for some lid action. 

Fox couldn't believe it. Alex had saved him. He had sacrificed his life for him. Because surely after he ran out of lids, Carolyn would get hungry. And when that happened, Alex would make a nice appetizer. He was a true pal. 

But he couldn't think about that now. He couldn't let Alex's sacrifice be in vain. He reached Mr. Lambert's door and he pounded on it. "Let me in!" he screamed. "I don't wanna die! I don't wanna die!" 

The door opened and Mr. Lambert greeted him. "What is going on?" He pushed his wire rims up his nose and squinted at him. "Oh. It's you. Fox Mulder. Look, I don't have any more extra credit assignments... You're already getting an A you know." 

Fox looked back at Alex, down to his last Tupperware lid. Cripes. "Please let me in. This isn't about extra-credit. It's about the missing milk mystery that's plaguing our town. I need to ask you a few questions." Poor Alex. Poor, poor Alex. 

"Oh, all right. Come in." Mr. Lambert opened the door wider and Fox ran in. Mr. Lambert sighed and shut the door, much to Fox's relief. The door looked strong, like it could withstand the force of a slobbering, crazed Irish Wolfhound, intent on eating another junior detective. 

He pictured poor Alex, his body being wolfed down by the hairy beast, his pathetic cries going unanswered. Fox shuddered. It was a cruel world that they lived in. 

"Sit down, Fox." Mr. Lambert pointed to the sofa and Fox complied. "You want anything to drink? Lemonade? Punch?" 

"Milk?" Fox asked, his eyebrows narrowing. 

"No, I don't have any!" Mr. Lambert snapped. "Mine was stolen too, Sherlock!" He sat down in his easy chair, raising the foot rest up in one motion. 

"Then no," Fox replied coolly. Fox pulled his notepad and pencil out of his pocket. "As you know, milk bottles have been disappearing all over Bayport. My father has been investigating this mystery and I am assisting him in this case." 

"Get on with it, Fox. What important questions do you have that your father hasn't already asked me?" 

Fox stared at him, then flipped through his notebook. This guy was good. Too good. "So. Mr. Lambert." Fox chewed on his pencil thoughtfully. "Do you... like milk?" 

Mr. Lambert stared back at him, his expression unreadable. "Yes," he said tersely. 

"Ah," Fox said, scribbling furiously. "Good to know. Mr. Lambert. Good. To. Know." 

Mr. Lambert shook his head. 

"How _much_ do you like milk, Mr. Lambert?" 

"What the hell do you mean, Fox?" 

"Enough... to _kill_ for it?" 

"Fox! Nobody's been killed here! Milk has been stolen! That's it!" 

Fox nodded slowly. "You didn't answer my question, Mr. Lambert." 

"No! I would not kill for milk! Ya happy?" 

Fox flipped a page in his notebook and continued to write, occasionally looking up at his suspect with his cool, analytical eye. He had him on the ropes, that was for sure. For you, Alex, ol' chum... for you. 

He felt sad. He had been frightened of Alex, scared of the feelings that seemed to creep up whenever he was around him. And now, he'd never be around him again. No more of the wonderful-scary tingles when Alex would look him up and down, like he owned him. No more electric jolts of pleasure shooting through him when Alex took him and kissed him. No more--- 

"Fox! I said, anything else? Where are you, boy?" Mr. Lambert shouted. "You're daydreaming again, just like in class! Thinking about girls, no doubt!" 

"No, I'm not thinking about girls!" Fox retorted. He had said too much. Fox covered his mouth, shocked to let out such a slip. "I, uh, I mean, I'm thinking about _women_." Yeah, that was it. "Women," he said, grinning and nodding. 

"Uh-huh." Mr. Lambert narrowed his eyes at Fox. "Listen, Fox... is there anything you'd like to talk about? How's things at home?" 

"Great!" Fox yelled. "Things are great! And I'm great! When I play with myself I think of Donna Reed!" Fox's face turned beet red. Why did he say that? 

"Ok, Fox. Ok. Well, these feelings are perfectly natural, you know." 

Fox swallowed. "Yeah, yeah. At least I don't like boys or anything. Yeah." 

Mr. Lambert leaned forward, his hands clasped. "What are you getting at, Fox?" 

"Um, you know," he stammered. "When boys _like_ each other. Want to kiss each other. Feel each other's privates." Fox paused. "I sure am glad that's not me. Cause...I.. would not enjoy...something like that. That's all I'm saying." 

"Fox," Mr. Lambert said. "I think you should know something about me. I'm a homosexual." 

"You mean...?" Fox whispered. 

"Yes. I like other men. And it's perfectly okay to do so. It's okay. You don't have to feel ashamed." 

Fox got up off the couch and began to back away. "Y-you're everywhere!" His eyes darted around the room. "I knew you didn't have children, but I just assumed Carolyn ate them!" 

"The neighbor dog? Carolyn wouldn't hurt a soul! Listen, Fox, I know it's a shock--" 

"What? What's a shock? I'm not shocked," Fox stammered. "I just... I just need to go!" He ran to the door, opened it, then slammed it behind him. 

He ran, not knowing where Carolyn was and at this point, not caring. Alex was gone, an appetizer for Carolyn no doubt. And Mr. Lambert had seen right through his charade. He knew exactly the turmoil that he was going through. 

What would his parents think? How would he ever provide them with grandchildren? Sure, he didn't want the little buggers, but he knew he had to have them anyways. It's what everybody did. He couldn't bear disappointing them. And then there was the whole stoning thing. Yikes. 

Then, in the distance, he saw him. Alex was laying on the ground, his body twisting, writhing underneath Carolyn, who had pinned him down. My God! The creature was in the process of devouring him! Bubba was laughing and pointing at the two of them, delighted by the cruel show. He could barely make out Alex's tortured cries. 

"No, Carolyn, no!" Alex yelled, pushing, trying to squirm away from the dog. 

"ALEX!!!" Fox cried. He couldn't let him die. He scanned the ground, looking for anything he could use for a weapon. He spotted an orange Tupperware lid and snatched it up, running toward them both. 

"I'm coming for you!" He threw the lid back towards Bubba's house. Carolyn's head perked up at the swirl of plastic spinning through the air. She took off after it, abandoning her prey. 

Bubba was still laughing. He sounded like a demented pig. 

He rushed to Alex and knelt beside him. "Alex. Are you okay?" Alex smiled and Fox couldn't help but respond in kind. He looked Alex over, looking to see if all of his parts were intact. Hmmm. Both arms. Both legs. No blood. Heyyyyy. "You...you aren't bleeding." 

"No shit, Sherlock!" Bubba said, snorting. 

Alex extended his hand and Fox took it without thinking about the consequences. As Fox pulled him up, Alex reached up with his other hand and gripped him on the shoulder, using it for leverage. Fox felt a shiver run through him. 

Alex's grip softened into a rub. Then he let go after a small pat. 

"Nope," Alex said, slapping the dirt off his pants. 

"But, I saw Carolyn attacking you!" 

"That goofy mutt? She was licking me, Fox! She wouldn't hurt a fly!" Carolyn ran back with the lid in her mouth and began to shake it back and forth. "She just likes to play!" Alex cooed, pulling the lid away from her. "Yes she does!" He threw it and she was off again. 

"Ha! She likes you!" Bubba said, impressed. 

"You mean... I thought you were dying... and..." 

Alex leaned into Fox and whispered into his ear, soft and low. "Thanks, Foxy." Alex grinned and Fox felt suddenly dazed and goofy. It felt inexplicably wonderful to feel Alex's approval, like the sun was shining just for him. 

"Maybe we should go look for clues," Alex said. He walked behind Fox, his hand brushing up against his ass. Fox stiffened. "Whaddya say?" 

"I...agree. We should do that." Dazed. It was good to be dazed. 

"Hey, you guys wanna play drunk Tupperware party?" Bubba asked excitedly. 

"No," Fox and Alex said in unison. 

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Chapter 6: Mrs. Liesling's Bedroom 

"Heh. Not much room back here, is there?" Fox said. 

"It's enough," Alex replied. They were between a row of bushes and Mrs. Liesling's shed out back. It was the perfect spot for spying, Alex had said, and he was right. The house was in perfect view, and yet the chances of that old bat spotting them behind the greenery were about as slim as her reciting William Shakespeare out of her rear. 

Fox shifted nervously, feeling Alex's breath behind him. There was precious little space and they couldn't fit side by side. Alex grabbed him by the arm and steadied him, keeping him still. "Stop it," Alex whispered. 

Fox took a small breath and willed himself not to move. He was finding it increasingly difficult not to give into that soft, dark voice of his. 

"I have to admit, Alex. I never thought we'd be working together." Fox peered through the binoculars that were focused on Mrs. Liesling's attic window. Mrs. Liesling was a frail, old woman... someone who could definitely benefit from the extra servings of milk. Rumor had it that she had been fighting off osteoporosis for many years. Which made her a natural suspect. "But you're a pretty good pal to help me like you did." 

They had been hiding in the bushes for ten minutes now and hadn't seen anything suspicious yet. But it was only noon. There was still plenty of time in the day left for geriatric shenanigans, and the minute Mrs. Liesling tried something, she'd find two youthful dynamos waiting. 

Behind him, Alex leaned over his shoulder and put his hands over Fox's. "Let me see those." He took the binoculars from Fox, who no longer seemed to have the energy to hold them anyways. 

Fox felt a stirring in his pants and he started shifting again, trying to put a little more space between him and Alex. 

Alex's hand was back on his shoulder. "Don't move!" he hissed in Fox's ear. His dick felt harder and tighter in his jeans, but he managed to hold completely still. "Look!" Alex handed the binoculars back to Fox. 

Fox weakly took them and lifted them up to his face. As he scanned the perimeter, he felt Alex's finger lightly brush against his ass. 

For a second, Fox couldn't breathe. "What do you see?" Alex whispered as he brought his other hand up to Fox's shoulder. 

See? Fox blinked. Oh yeah. Mrs. Liesling. There she was, putting on a sweater jacket and walking down the front steps of her porch. Did she see them? She looked straight towards him and squinted. Cripes. 

Alex moved slightly, his body in close and tight on Fox's. "What's she doing?" he asked. The question didn't register in poor Fox's brain. He was too busy feeling overwhelmed by Alex's presence... his hand on his shoulder, his hot breath on his neck, his hand on his ass---waitaminute... 

Mrs. Liesling took two steps towards them, squinted again, then turned back around, obviously satisfied that whatever she had seen was of little importance. She walked to her Chevy Impala and got in. 

Fox finally allowed himself to breathe. Mrs. Liesling backed her car out of the driveway and took off, leaving a cloud of dust behind her. "She's gone," he said. "Now what?" 

"We go in," Alex replied, a hint of a smile in his voice. 

"But, that's breaking and entering!" Fox protested. Fox turned around and was face to face with Alex. 

Alex's eyes seemed darker, but more alive. "I'll be careful. I won't break anything. It'll just be...entering... Nothing wrong with that, is there?" 

"No, I guess not," Fox croaked, his throat dry. 

"Then let's go." Alex sprinted across the yard and up to the front door. He looked around for prying eyes, then motioned to Fox with a wave of his hand. 

Fox marshaled his courage and ran after him, as fast as he could. When he got there, Alex opened the unlocked door and the two boys entered the empty house. 

Fox shut the door behind him. The house smelled like an old lady. And not the good kind. Alex drew the blinds, and the living room was blanketed in darkness with strips of light streaming through the cracks. Fox's eyes were readjusting when he heard Alex's voice in front of him. 

"Don't want anyone to see us," he said plainly, no longer whispering. His voice sounded rich and deep inside the empty room. 

"We better split up and look for clues," Fox said quickly, taking a step back. 

"We don't have a lot of time," Alex said. "We don't know how soon that old bat is going to be back. Let's make the best use of it." 

"And...that's my point... we should be looking for conspicuous amounts of milk bottles. Or even bags of cookies could be considered circumstantial evidence. I'm getting hungry." 

"All right, whatever," Alex sighed. "You look down here. I'll be upstairs." 

Finally, Fox thought. Safety in distance. If Alex was upstairs, no hanky-panky. He wasn't quite sure however, if he was afraid of Alex or afraid of himself. 

"Let me know what you find," Alex said and crept up the stairs into the shadows. 

"Okay," Fox answered, suddenly feeling very alone. He looked around the room, squinting to make out shapes and objects in what little light he had to work with. The only sound was the tick of the grandfather clock next to the front door. It was downright spooky in here. 

He moved quickly into the kitchen, pushing on the swinging door. It flapped behind him. There was more light in here, but the silence was still overwhelming. 

Fox grabbed the icebox door and pulled, peering inside. In it lay a stick of butter, a block of cheese, and a bowl full of half-eaten peas. It smelled gross. Yuck. This lady was one weird-o. No milk, though. 

You're good, lady. Realllll good. Where was she hiding them? 

He checked the pantry, but only found enough canned vegetables to last through World War III. Stuff that really had no business being preserved, like carrots and rhubarb. Old people seemed obsessed with eating strange foods. 

"This is pointless," Fox said aloud. They were persecuting this little old lady, sneaking around, looking in her fridge... and for what? Looking for something that wasn't there. "I'm going to put a stop to this." 

Fox swung the kitchen door open and made his way to the stairs. The windows were open here and it was much easier to see where he was going. He guessed Alex figured no one really had a clear vantage point to see them up here. 

"Alex?" he called tentatively as he reached the top of the stairs. He looked both ways down the hall. Nothing. He turned to the right and slowly crept down the hallway. "Alex!" he called, more urgently. "C'mon, quit foolin'! I know you're up here." 

Fox opened a door and peeked in. The midday sun was streaming through the corner window, illuminating the bed. This must be her bedroom. Ewww. Fox didn't like thinking about it. He saw a pink, shimmery nightgown hanging over a chair. Double ewww. Alex was nowhere in sight. 

He walked over to the closet and opened it. No milk bottles. Just clothes. Strange, bright clothes made of stretchy fabric. Dresses with sunflowers... and hats!! Huge white hats with plastic flowers adorning them. It was like Easter exploded. 

"There's nothing here," a voice said. 

Fox jumped and turned around. "Don't scare me like that, Alex!" 

Alex grinned. "What are you scared of, Foxy?" 

"Nothing. Forget it." Fox felt embarrassed that Alex had snuck up on him so easily. "Don't call me that." Fox's face burned in shame. "I don't like it." 

"Why not?" Alex said, now next to him. Fox turned and pretended to look through the closet, looking for clues. He sifted through the strange old woman's garments, feeling slightly unnerved to be doing so. 

"I just don't, ok? I'm not your boyfriend and I don't like you calling me cutesy names." Fox pulled out a garish dress with bunnies on it, like it was somehow significant to the case. He gave it a cursory glance, then put it back. 

"Fooooxxxy," Alex whispered in his ear. 

Fox's eyes fluttered. "Shut. Up," he growled through gritted teeth. 

"Make me," Alex said. "Foxy." 

That was it. Fox turned and shoved Alex as hard as he could. Alex stumbled backwards to the floor, with a surprised look on his face. Alex grabbed Fox as he fell and pulled him down with him. 

Fox wasted no time punching Alex in the shoulder. "Owwww. Don't," Alex pleaded. He struggled underneath him, trying to wriggle away. Fox pushed down on Alex's shoulders, pinning him to the floor. 

"Oh, you have this coming," Fox said, triumphantly. He punched him again, and Alex grunted. Fox thought it sounded very satisfying. His dick twinged and hardened. He hit him again. Alex tried to twist underneath him, but Fox squeezed his legs around Alex's waist, holding him there. This does not feel good. This does not feel good. 

"Let me go, please," Alex begged. "You're too...too strong." 

Fox narrowed his eyes. He did look defeated. "Had enough, eh?" Fox relaxed. "I guess you've learned your lesson." Yes, get off of him, before you have an accident, he thought to himself. 

"Yes, yes, I have." Alex paused. "Foxy." 

That little.... He started hitting him again, and that little grinning devil tried to squirm away. Well, if Alex thought he could get away from him, he had another thing coming. He tightened his legs and felt something hard press into his crotch. 

Alex scooted from side to side. "You can't keep me here, Foxy! I won't let you!" He felt Alex's penis press harder against his. 

"Gah!" he yelled. Alex had tricked him again! He wasn't trying to escape! He was merely feigning helplessness and using it as an opportunity to rub their bodies together. 

"You...you..." was all Fox could say. Alex smiled and moved his pelvis again, slightly. 

"I _asked_ you to let me go," Alex reasoned. "And... you don't seem to be going, even now." 

Fox started to move off of the boy underneath him. But he didn't want to. It felt so good, so right. He wanted to stay there all day. But he couldn't. He had to be strong. 

He lifted, barely, and Alex's hands clasped him around the waist and pulled him back down. 

"No," Alex commanded. 

"What---" Fox breathed. Then Alex grabbed Fox by the shirt and brought his face down to his own. Alex's lips brushed casually against his. Fox's body shivered in response, betraying his poorly kept secret: that he loved being touched by Alex. 

With one quick movement, Alex pushed Fox to the side and flipped him to the floor. Their positions were reversed in a matter of seconds, and Alex wasted no time pinning him to the ground. For real. 

Fox struggled to escape, but Alex had him good. Alex was the stronger of the two of them, which was becoming more and more apparent to Fox all the time. He swung his hands up, trying to push Alex off of him. Alex grabbed him by the wrists and pushed his weight down on Fox, holding him to the floor. 

Alex's face was inches away from Fox's. 

"Uhhh, let me go!" 

"I don't think so," Alex said with a devious grin. "I think I like you like this, Foxy." 

"I don't," Fox said lamely. "I don't--" Alex leaned in and put his mouth on Fox's, the nicest way of shutting him up that he could think of. Fox moaned against his mouth and it wasn't clear whether he was trying to finish his sentence or if he was just moaning in pleasure. 

Alex lifted slightly away from him, his eyes almost shut. "I don't," Fox repeated, and Alex kissed him again, his lips pressed tightly against Fox's. Then, quickly, slyly, like a thief, Alex slid his tongue in. 

Fox blinked rapidly, overwhelmed with this new sensation. The panicky shock of the intrusion quickly gave way to pleasure and he found himself responding, his own tongue moving with Alex's. 

It felt good. 

But more importantly, it felt _right_. The most natural thing in the world to do. And no amount of rhetoric or conditioning could steer his young body from the truth. Nature's truth. He liked boys. And Alex was one fine boy. And he wanted him in a way that he had never wanted Donna Reed. 

Alex stopped kissing him and Fox looked into his eyes, stunned, drunk. Alex made a low growling noise and pushed Fox's head to the side, exposing his neck. 

Fox tried to think of words of protest but all he could say was "uh" as Alex's lips sucked the side of his neck. As Alex worked his tongue and lips on Fox's soft, tender flesh the "uh" turned into an "ohhhh", quiet and sweet with surrender. 

Fighting, should be fighting, Fox thought, laying there, getting harder with every kiss. 

"We." Alex found the magic spot where neck and shoulder met and started kissing. "Could..." He lifted up, his breathing heavy and excited. "Do things." 

"What's there to do?" Fox asked, curiously. "You mean..." Fox slightly raised his hips and made a thrusting motion. Alex grinned great big and Fox felt a flash of pride. He liked making Alex smile. 

"How about I show you," Alex told Fox. Alex scooted down to Fox's waist. With one hand, he pushed Fox's shirt up past his nipples, rather roughly, like a kid who can't wait to open the Christmas wrapping to see what's inside. He began to leave short, hard kisses all along Fox's tummy. 

"Oh," Fox said, taken aback by the wonderful feelings shooting through his body. His dick was practically aching to get out. And do what, he wasn't sure. But he had a feeling Alex would know. 

Alex _did_ know, obviously, because while he was kissing Fox, he reached down with his free hand and began to undo Fox's belt buckle. He pulled the belt strap back and through the loop and pushed the metal stem out and the deed was done. 

Fox heard the jangle of metal on metal and his pants felt loosened. Then he felt Alex's nimble fingers graze his waist, then pull on his zipper. Fox believed he had never heard such a wonderful sound as Alex unzipping his jeans. His penis rose up underneath his underwear, free from the confining strain of his jeans. 

"Wha-what are you going..." Alex's hand wrapped around Fox's dick and squeezed. Fox made a whining sound and squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn't help but lift his pelvis in response. 

Alex pushed down the underwear and Fox's dick sprung out, engorged and full. Alex curled his fingers around it and gripped it tightly. Fox shook and clawed helplessly on the floor. 

"It's a good one," Alex praised. "I knew it would be. Now I wanna taste you, Foxy." 

Fox opened his eyes and looked down, unsure what Alex was going to do. Was he going to bite him? That didn't sound right. Fox watched warily as Alex parted his lips and guided the erect penis into his mouth. 

"Ohhh!" he shouted immediately, tilting his head back, staring at the light fixture on the ceiling. Alex's mouth felt warm and wet around him. It was a kiss. Alex was kissing his penis. 

Alex paused, saying, "You can come in my mouth if you want." Then he started sucking. 

Fox didn't even know it was possible to feel this good, to feel like every part of him was awash in pleasure. His body felt charged with life, his sex energy flowing straight from the Alex's mouth to Fox's dick and all through his eager, willing body. 

Alex hummed and growled, his head moving up and down on Fox's shaft. Fox's fingernails scratched against the floor and he began to make tiny mewling noises from the back of his throat. This was good. This had to be a gift from God! God, thank you! Thank you for letting me have this! 

Alex held Fox's dick steady, in a greedy, possessive grip while sucking him. Fox moaned lowly in response, quite certain that it had been a long time since this room had been filled with such noises. He felt down and put his hands around Alex's head, his fingers running through his hair. 

It was hard to tell just what Alex was doing down there, but it all felt good. He felt the soft pressure of Alex's agile tongue flit around his dick expertly while he still had his lips around him. Fox felt his body buck as Alex licked from the underside of the base of his cock up to the top and down again, in a swirling "s" that threatened to make him scream. He somehow held it back, swallowing, and he felt his eyes water. 

Alex's rhythmic bobbing began to speed up, and Fox let his hands rest on his head, going with the motion. His hair felt nice. He never wanted to let go. 

"Sooogood," he breathed and he could feel Alex's hungry mouth grin against him. Alex worked his mouth up and down Fox's penis and Fox felt his own body thrusting slightly, raising up to meet Alex's mouth. 

Fox no longer felt like he had any control over his body. Alex had kissed and sucked Fox enthusiastically until he had complete mastery over him. It was a wonderful feeling. He could let go. He could give himself to Alex. He had no choice in it anymore. 

His balls tightened and his body became overwhelmed with pleasure. "Ohhhhh," he whined. He felt as if his spirit might just leave his body. His penis throbbed and Alex hummed against it urgently. "Ohhhhh," he repeated, biting his lip. 

"Mmmm," Alex urged against him and Fox obeyed. He came, his essence spurting out of him and down Alex's throat. His fingers wound themselves into Alex's hair, kneading listlessly, trying desperately not to pull. 

Finally, Alex finished and let him go, swiping the excess fluid with his hand. Alex nestled his head on the crook between Fox's dick and leg and let himself breathe. It felt nice to have him resting there, the hot breath warming him. 

"I want you to do something for me," Alex breathed, low and urgent. 

Fox's eyes opened with a start. Oh God. He didn't know _how_ to do anything. He wanted to please Alex the way that he had pleased him, but he had never done it before. 

"I...I..." he stammered. Alex sat up and carefully tucked the now flaccid penis back into Fox's underwear. "I don't think I'd be very good, Alex." 

He zipped Fox's pants back up for him, a sly look on his face. "Now, now, Foxy... I think you could do anything you set your mind to. But there'll be time for _that_ later." His voice dropped, becoming soft and serious. "I just need your hand on me." 

Alex pulled himself up and started to undo his pants in front of Fox, who still wasn't quite sure what Alex wanted. 

"Umm, you want my hand where?" 

"Where do you think?" Alex unzipped his pants and his hard cock poked out. He stroked himself, getting it slick with Fox's come. 

"Hey, you're not wearing any under--!" He grabbed Fox's hand and placed it on the naked flesh. It was hard as a rock, but so, so soft. He gave it a gentle squeeze and Alex breathed audibly. 

"Goood," he growled. "''S nice." Fox looked up with innocent eyes. Alex smiled. "You really don't know what to do, do you? Listen, just jerk me off the way you jerk yourself off. You masturbate, don't you?" 

Fox nodded shamefully. Cripes, how did Alex figure it out? He had kept it a secret for so long. Man, everybody must know, he thought disdainfully. 

"Like this, Foxy." Alex guided Fox's hand up and down his gleaming shaft. He breathed through gritted teeth. "Good....good boy... just like that. Like you do yourself. Oh God...." 

Alex tilted his head. He could hear something in the distance, getting closer. A sputtering car pulled up into the driveway, quickly followed by the sound of a slamming car door. 

Fox heard it too, jerking his head towards the window. "Is that Mrs. Liesling?" 

Alex nodded and Fox tried to pull away, but the other boy's grip was too tight. "Not. Yet. Foxy." 

"But!" Fox cried worriedly, pointing to the window with his free hand. 

"Faster," Alex spat, his hand forcing Fox's hand more quickly. Fox complied, scared but excited. It was thrilling, his hand on Alex's cock, wondering when he would explode with pleasure the way that Fox had done earlier. _IF_ Mrs. Liesling didn't catch them first. She may be old, Fox thought, but she could swing that cane as hard as Babe Ruth in the bottom of the ninth. 

Downstairs, the front door opened, then slammed shut. 

Fox instinctively tried to pull away, his flight response in full effect. Alex would have none of it. "Alll...most...there....don't you dare!" 

Alex jerked Fox's hand back in place and Fox began stroking him with increased vigor. "Harder," Alex commanded and Fox obeyed, gripping tighter. Liquid began to form at the tip of Alex's cock and Fox's fingers slid around it, the slick substance mixing with his own come that Alex had previously rubbed on himself. 

"Uhhhhh," Alex shouted. 

"Shhhh," Fox responded. 

"She's...she's...old...hard of...hearing...ohhhhgod!" 

"Is somebody here?" Mrs. Liesling shouted from below. 

"Oh crap!" Fox whispered. He wanted to run and hide, but he knew there was no going back. He felt his own hardness slowly return to him. 

"Don'tstopdon'tstop!" Alex worked Fox's hand on him, the jerking now more furious. He stroked the throbbing, hot wet penis in his hand and Alex started to wail. 

"Uhhhhh! Ohhhhhhhfahhhh!" He was coming. Alex was coming. Fox had done it! He couldn't believe it! The hot liquid spurted out onto his hand and Alex grunted with each coaxing thrust. 

"I've got a cane and I'm not afraid to shove it up somebody's ass!" Mrs. Liesling yelled from the bottom of the stairs. 

"Not my scene," Alex remarked, tucking his penis back in. Fox got up and looked around looking for a hiding place. "Window," Alex said. 

"We're on the second story!" 

"Tree." Alex pointed. Sure enough. "C'mere." Fox moved toward him and Alex grabbed Fox's shirt, pulling him in closer. 

"Hey, you're getting my shirt sticky!" Fox complained. 

"If I can swallow it..." Alex replied with a smile. He tilted his head and kissed him. "Ya did good, Foxy," he said between kisses. "Now, let's make like a tree and leave." 

And they did. 

Mrs. Liesling looked into her bedroom, finding nothing. She looked out the window and saw Alex and Fox shimmying down the tree. 

"Boys will be boys," she said. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx 

Chapter 7: Guess Who's Coming At Dinner? 

They were having a scrumptious dinner on the patio at the Mulder residence. The evening was perfect, the weather was pleasant. Mrs. Mulder had seated Alex and Fox next to each other. It was so rare that they had guests. 

"I'll have some more of those delicious green beans, Mrs. Mulder," Alex said, glowing. 

"OH! You darling boy!" She yelled. "You take all you want. I'm glad somebody around here appreciates all my work." She glared at William who had just taken a bite of fried chicken. "I grew them myself," she beamed. 

"And this chicken!" Alex pointed down to his plate. "Just perfect." 

"You've raised such a sweet boy, Mr. Spender." She shook her head. "I don't know how you did it all by yourself. I know some men would be completely helpless. Why, I bet my William would starve to death before he figured out how to use a knife and a loaf of bread." 

William took a bite of mashed potatoes and chuckled. "Oh, you!" 

Mrs. Mulder held up a drumstick. "Slaughtered 'em myself!" she chirped. 

"Mooom," Fox said, totally mortified. "I can't believe you said that!" 

"Well, I just want you to realize all that I do to provide a delicious, yet well-rounded dinner for you and your father and your father's guests. By the way, I'm so glad you came tonight, Alex!" 

Alex took a bite and turned, looking directly at Fox. "Me too, Mrs. Mulder." 

Fox looked down, trying to hide a grin. Underneath the table, Alex nonchalantly reached over and put his hand on Fox's knee. Fox jumped, dropping his fork. 

"What is it, son?" William asked. 

Mr. Spender directed his gaze towards Fox. "Yes, what is it?" 

"Raccoons!" Fox yelled, gesturing towards the fence. Everybody but Alex turned to look. One lone bird sitting on the fence looked back, curious. The entire party turned in unison back towards Fox. 

Fox snapped his fingers. "Missed 'em." He shoveled in a huge spoon of potatoes. "They're quick," he said with his mouth full. "Oh yes, so quick." 

The group was silent for a second before resuming normal table conversation. Alex's hand returned, squeezing Fox's inner thigh. Fox shifted in his seat. He mouthed, "Stop it" to Alex, but Alex only smiled in return. Shoot, he was getting hard. Darn you, Alex. 

"So, any luck on the milk bottle case?" Mrs. Mulder asked. 

"Not really, dear. This one has me stumped." William wrinkled his brow crankily. "I'm still narrowing down the suspects." 

Mr. Spender took a drag off of his cigarette. "I don't think I trust that Mr. Lambert," he offered after exhaling. 

"The high school teacher?" William asked. 

"Oh dear, I don't trust him either," Mrs. Mulder agreed. "I hear he likes the company of men." 

"Ol' Lambert? Oh no, he's a ladies man!" William opined. "Loovvves the ladies." 

Fox sat there in shock. He wasn't sure what disgusted him more...that his mother could be so shrill and judgmental or that his father wasn't quite the detective that he thought he was. Maybe they _could_ be wrong about things. Maybe _he_ could be right... 

"What's wrong with the company of men, Mrs. Mulder?" Alex piped up. 

Mrs. Mulder put down her fork. "Well, it's a sin. It says so in the bible. Don't you read the bible? You poor, deprived thing. If you need one, I have several extra. I can loan you one." 

Alex shook his head. "No thanks. I have one. And I have read it." 

"Well, that's good! Lots of useful stuff in the Good Book!" William exclaimed wisely. Mr. Spender sat back, looking quietly amused. 

"I believe it's in Leviticus. It says that men should not lie down with men." Mrs. Mulder took a drink of iced tea, convinced that she had settled the issue. 

Who says you have to lie down, Fox thought, then felt immediately guilty. He looked down at his plate and began stirring his potatoes listlessly. 

Alex noticed and gave his thigh another squeeze. Fox looked up at him and Alex smiled. Fox felt at ease again suddenly. One look from Alex (plus his touch) and his fears suddenly seemed small. He felt respected. He felt loved. 

"Which parts of the bible do you believe in?," Alex asked. "The bible says a lot of things." 

"What are you asking? What sort of things?" Mrs Mulder said, a distinct edge in her voice. 

"Well, I believe in the spirit of the bible, not the letter of it. Cast no stone, etc., etc. But there are many examples of outdated laws that no one follows. I've never understood why many well-meaning, but misguided people...such as yourself... obsess about the few lines that are against homosexuality." 

Alex took another bite of chicken. Everyone stared at him, saying nothing. Fox was breathless. 

"For example," Alex continued. "The bible commands you put adulterers to death. Well, shoot, we wouldn't have many folks left alive around these parts, now would we?" He chuckled and the men followed suit, tickled at the thought. Mrs. Mulder coldly stared at him. 

"It also says you're breaking the law to wear clothes of mixed-fibers. Not to wear wool and linen together. And I don't think they were just giving fashion tips." He took a sip of his lemonade. No one, especially Fox, took their eyes off of him. 

"It also says it's immoral to eat oysters. Or to eat pork. Or to drink milk. It also says that if your brother dies, you are commanded to take his wife as your own. That may have been how the ancient Hebrews got their kicks, but around here that just sounds _really_ kinky. The bible also tells us not to shave our beards. How many of us have shaved today? Mrs. Mulder, no need to raise your hand." 

Fox lifted his hand. "I did." 

"Me too!" William said. Mr. Spender slowly raised his cigarette up to his mouth, but the rest of the table took it as a yes. 

"So, Mrs. Mulder, you know what I'm talking about when I ask: which parts of the bible do you believe in?" 

Mrs. Mulder got up and began to pick up plates. "I think you're a very mixed-up little boy," she said quietly. 

Fox stood up. "He's not mixed-up! He makes a lot of sense! More sense than you do!" He realized his erection was still there and quite visible. Everyone was looking at him. "Raccoons!" he shouted, pointing, before running into the house. 

Alex got up, holding onto his plate. "I'll take this in. Then I'll check on him. He's had a tiring day." 

Mrs. Mulder refused to look at him. 

"Yes, um, why don't you do that, Alex. Thank you," William said. "Honey, the boy will be fine! I'll talk to him later. He's just confused. So was I at that age." 

"Yes, yes, I know," she said with a defeated tone in her voice. 

Alex left and went into the kitchen. He put his plate into the sink and walked through the hallway, looking for the stairs. He opened a door and realized it was the pantry. He started to shut the door when a light, glinting off of something caught his eye. Reaching up, he pulled on the string connected to the light bulb. The light clicked on and the small room was illuminated. 

Alex gasped. There was no food in the pantry. It was filled with empty glass bottles. Empty glass milk bottles. Holy crap on a stick! Mrs. Mulder! He had to tell Fox. 

Alex pulled on the string and the light clicked off. He shut the door behind him and walked down the hallway. He spotted the stairs and sprinted up them. He saw a doorway with a poster of a Topps Martian on it. Well, whose room could that be? He chuckled. 

He opened the door. Fox was lying down on the bed. Naked. Jerking off. 

"Hey! Foxy!" Fox jumped in fright and rolled off the bed. 

"Ow!" he shouted. "Shut the door! Criminy! I thought you were my mom!" 

Alex started laughing. "Oh, that would have been good! No, I need to tell you about your mom!" 

"I don't want to know." Fox pulled himself up, covering his genitalia with a Lone Ranger pillow. "All I know is that I want you. My heart tells me it's right, Alex." 

Alex closed the distance between them. He grabbed Fox's bare cock behind the pillow and squeezed. "You sure it's your heart?" 

Fox breathed sharply, unable to get his mouth to make words. 

"God, I want you, Foxy. I want to fuck you. Do you want me to fuck you?" 

It _sounded_ good. What did he mean though? "With your hand?" Fox managed to get out. 

Alex laughed. "No, with my dick, ya goofball." 

Fox stared at him, confused. "What... what do you do with it?" 

Alex leaned in and whispered in Fox's ear. "I stick it in that gorgeous ass of yours." 

Okay, he _had_ to be joking, Fox thought. "Excuse me, where?" Alex clenched his fist harder and Fox shuddered. ""Cause...I thought...you said my..." 

"Guilty as charged!" Alex let go of him and raised both hands in the air. 

Fox shook his head, trying to make sense of this new wrinkle. "Okay, that just sounds weird." 

"Foxy, if I would have described what I was going to do to you this afternoon _before_ I did it, that would've sounded weird too." 

Fox was silent. 

"But it wasn't, was it? It was good. Your dick in my mouth. Good." 

Good point. "Ok," Fox said quickly. "But if this is all some sort of joke to see how gullible I am, I'm really going to be mad." 

"I'm telling the truth," Alex protested. "Scout's honor." He raised two fingers, then waggled them. 

Fox rolled his eyes. "Please." 

Alex's eyes darkened. "Well, since you said the magic word..." Alex grabbed the side of Fox's face, and pulled him in for a kiss. His tongue was in him and Fox melted in his embrace. It felt so good to belong to Alex. And that was what it felt like... he belonged... he had a place in this world suddenly. It seemed so clear. 

Fox dropped his pillow. 

As they kissed, Alex undid his own jeans. He broke away to pull off his shirt, then kissed Fox again before stopping to strip off his jeans. He kicked off his shoes and then shook his leg. The pants slid off of him and he threw his socks across the room. 

Fox headed toward the door. He pushed a huge dresser in front of it. "Just in case." They smiled at each other. 

Fox rushed to him and they kissed again. He shivered, the sensation of naked Alex against his body arousing every part of him. So far, so good. 

Alex guided them towards the bed kissing him long and hard. When they reached it, Alex pushed him down on it and stared at him. 

"What?" Fox asked. 

"Just... you're so damn hot and you don't even know it." 

Fox blushed and Alex jumped on top of him. His lips found Fox's and they kissed again. He grabbed Fox's cock and began stroking it. Fox made tiny whimpering noises into Alex's mouth. Alex tasted like pink lemonade. 

Alex lifted up, out of breath. "I'm going to do you good, sweetie," Alex said coarsely. "Now spread your legs." Fox did, his thighs now open and exposed. He was still uncertain, but he wanted to make Alex happy. The sex liquid that Alex called "coming" seemed to be dribbling out of his cock, but he knew he wasn't coming yet. Just about to. 

Fox felt Alex lift and push one of his legs up into the air, his arm wrapped around underneath, almost leaning on it for support. Alex grabbed Fox's cock and slicked up his hand with Fox's juice, getting it nice and slippery. Mmmmmsooonice, Fox thought right before Alex _stopped_ doing it. 

"Uh!" he whined. "Go back! Go back!" Fox's lips curled down in a frustrated pout. The big tease. 

"Got something else for you," Alex grunted. Fox felt him cub his ass and lift him up off the bed. Fox wasn't sure how, but Alex managed to shove The Lone Ranger pillow under his ass, raising it up slightly. 

Hey then felt Alex's fingers wriggle around down there. What was he doing? 

One slick finger found his asshole and snuck in, tentatively. Fox gasped and thrust his pelvis up into the air. Fox dug his fingers into his blankets and bit the inside of his cheek. 

One, two... did it matter? He couldn't tell anymore. Alex's fingers slid into him, probing delicately. Slip in, slip out. Fox didn't know if he could take much more of this without yelping. The intrusion hurt, but Alex seemed to know what he was doing. At least that dresser was _really_ heavy. He didn't think shouting "raccoon" would work for him at this point. 

Alex brought his hand back up to Fox's dick, grabbing it. "Up. Just a little," Alex growled, leaning his weight on Fox's spread legs and pushing his ass higher into the air. Alex wasted no time in nuzzling his stiff cockhead around Fox's now-exposed opening. 

"Gonna hurt at first," Alex warned, and then his cock sank into him before his words could. 

"Ahhh!" Fox yelled. "Burns..." 

"Easy...easy... it gets better, Foxy, it gets better." Alex gave a reassuring clench on Fox's dick, and Fox thrashed his head from side to side, whimpering. "Shhhh, you're doing good...you're so good." 

Alex pulled out slowly, but not completely, leaving the tip in Fox. Then he pushed carefully back in, causing Fox to moan incoherently. Several minutes of this and Alex began to quicken his pace. His gentle pumping was getting more pronounced. 

"Uh-huh," Fox whispered. 

"Like that, Foxy? Feels nice? I want it to be nice, oh God, it's nice..." 

"Uhhhh! OhhhHHH!" Fox shouted. It was clearly getting better. Fox grabbed the ends of his blankets and smothered his face with them. Anything to drown out the sounds that Alex was forcing out of him. 

Because Alex was not about to stop and the last thing he needed was his mom finding him with the new kid's dick in his ass. Especially after the fried chicken dinner fiasco. 

The bed started to creak as Alex pounded into him with increasing force. Alex huskily grunted with each thrust and Fox felt the bed scoot inch by inch with each one. Cripes! He's gonna move us across the room, he thought. 

Fox heard Alex through the blanket, his cries getting more urgent, more desperate, closer to losing control. He liked it. He felt proud knowing he was making Mr. Tough Guy Alex lose it. 

Fox was pretty close himself to losing it. He felt his dick throb with each jerk of Alex's fierce hand. It felt as hot as a flame, burning bright. He knew he was going to spurt into Alex's hand the way that Alex had spurt into his. Fox pictured it in his head, his cries muffled through the blankets and he couldn't stop it, it just happened and he was coming right then and there. 

The thick, slippery hot fluid erupted over Alex's hand and he responded by squeezing it harder, determined to get it all out of him. 

Alex shifted his weight and Fox's body was suddenly awash in pleasure twinged with an undercurrent of pain. But it was sweet, oh it was sweet. He didn't know what magic Alex was working on him and he didn't care. He just wanted it to flow forever. 

"UhhhhHHHHHH" Fox yelled and Alex thrust more savagely into him. The bed scooted a full two inches, but neither of them cared anymore. Nothing else remained but the two of them. 

"Uh. Uh. Uhhhhhhhhhhoooooooohhh!" Alex answered and as Alex's fingers dug into Fox's outer thigh, he too came, shooting deeply into Fox as he arched his back. 

Both bodies seemed to shiver and shake, their orgasms rolling through them... waves of pleasure that they had felt building ever since they had first met. This was it. This was their destiny. They were made to be together. 

Alex gasped, his breaths short and hot. He collapsed onto Fox's outstretched, sweaty, spent body. 

"I think I love you, Alex," Fox mumbled, his head still covered. "Oh man, did I just say that out loud?" He heard Alex's breathing and nothing else. He couldn't hear him under the blankets. Good. Don't want to freak him out or anything. 

Still. 

What a guy. 

Alex pulled the blanket off Fox's head. "Hey, Foxy," he smiled. "Whaddya think? Weird?" 

Fox grinned great big. "Yeah. It was. But it was so awesome! I had no idea!" he gushed. "There are so many things we can do to each other!" 

"Yeah...There are." Alex sighed, contendedly, the promise of more adventures yet to come. "You smell like sex." 

"Oh," Fox said embarrassed, his face flushed with color. 

"I like it. You smell like me now." 

Fox beamed. "I like it too." 

"Time...for...sleep..." Alex intoned, ready to nod off. 

Wow, Fox thought. I wore him out. He brought his arm around Alex and held him tightly. They were going to sleep together. He couldn't think of a better way to end the night. 

He stared up at the ceiling, looking at the room from a different view than before. He could see out the window better. His bed had moved three feet closer. But things looked different in another way as well. For the first time in his life, Fox Mulder knew who he was. And he liked it. A lot. 

Fox sighed and kissed Alex on the forehead. 

"Love you too, Foxy," Alex mumbled. 

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Chapter 8: Hello, Goodbye 

They awoke with a pounding on the door. 

"Son!!! Open up! I need you out here, quick!" 

Oh crap, they must know. Fox detangled himself from Alex, who was still coming out of his deep sleep. He pulled some less-sticky clothes out of his closet and dressed as fast as he could, putting his shirt on inside-out. He threw a pair of jeans and a t-shirt in Alex's direction. 

Fox poked Alex in the shoulder. "Hey, wake up! Get these clothes on! Something's going on." 

Alex grumbled, pulling himself out of bed, a surly look on his face. He started to pull on the clothes, absent-mindedly, grabbing a shirt off the floor. 

"Hey, you're putting on the dirty shirt!" 

Alex shrugged and pushed the dresser aside. The door flung open and William Mulder burst in. 

"Fox. Alex!" he said surprised. "Oh, I didn't know you were having a sleep-over, Fox." 

Fox looked at him blankly, scared to even move. 

"Anyways," his father continued. "It's your mother. She's vanished. Mr. Spender seems to think she's been abducted." 

"Jeepers, I don't believe it!" Fox shouted. 

"Now hold on there son, we're doing everything we can. Mr. Spender seems to think it's connected to his wife's abduction. Now I can tell you that we won't rest until we find her." 

"Oh man... this is...this is unreal!" Fox started to pace. 

"Mr. Spender is going overseas to follow a few leads. I'll continue the investigation from here." 

"What about me?" Alex asked. 

"Oh yes, well, if it's ok with you, your father wanted me to keep an eye on you. You can stay with us. If that's ok." 

Alex was silent, then said excitedly, "Gosh, Mr. Mulder! That'd be swell! Me and Fox are getting on great!" 

The phone started to ring. "I better get that. It may be the police. As if _they_ know what they're doing. I am America's greatest detective, you know." 

William dashed out, running for the phone. Alex and Fox looked at each other, disbelieving. 

"Your mother's the milk bottle thief," Alex blurted. "They're all lined up in the pantry." 

"Holy cow, you're kidding me!" Fox shouted. "Hmmm. She did act funny around milk. But this... this is insane." 

"I think it has something to do with her literal interpretation of the bible. Unfortunately, there are many like her." 

Fox shuffled his feet. He felt excited, alive, not guilty. What was the matter with him? 

" _I_ could probably find her, you know," Alex offered. "If I had to." 

Fox looked up from his feet. 

"Of course, when that happens, I'll have to move out." 

"It could take awhile though," Fox said. "It sounds like a really tough mystery." 

Alex went to him and put his arms around his neck. He leaned in, his eyelids lowering. Fox met Alex's mouth with his own and they began to kiss. Alex leaned his head against Fox's so their noses touched. 

"Our toughest one yet. I'll need help," Alex retorted. 

Fox grabbed Alex's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "You got it, pal. I'm all yours." 

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The End 

Liked it? Hated it? Just wanna say, "What the fuck?!?" E me, baby... 

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If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to David S. 


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